After the chaos of the cafeteria and Mina's nonstop chatter, I needed air.
I said a quick goodbye to her at the hallway intersection. She waved like we'd been friends since preschool.
"See you tomorrow, Alicia!"
I forced a smile and slipped away, pulling out my schedule as if I hadn't already memorized it this morning.
Modern History. Room 312.
Could be worse.
The halls had mostly cleared by now. I passed a couple of kids leaning against lockers, some couples making out like we weren't all standing in the middle of a public building, and a group of cheerleaders blocking the hallway like they owned it. I kept my head down, letting my hoodie cover most of my silver hair. No need to draw extra attention — not today.
When I reached the classroom, I hesitated for a second outside the door.
New school, new faces, new class. I took a deep breath and stepped in.
To my relief, the room was calm. Just a few people chatting in quiet groups, no icy glares, no clique drama, no pink-haired girls asking a million questions, and — most importantly — no Paul Vert brooding in a corner like he hated the air.
I grabbed a seat by the window and, for once, it wasn't terrible.
The classroom smelled faintly like old books and lavender-scented cleaning spray. Sunlight filtered through the blinds, leaving streaks of light across the desks.
The teacher walked in a minute later — a tall woman with blonde curls, glasses perched on her nose, and a warm smile. She introduced herself as Ms. Calloway.
Surprisingly, she had the kind of voice that made you want to listen. Soft but confident. She launched straight into a talk about ancient empires, weird royal scandals, and bizarre traditions they followed centuries ago. It was weirdly fun.
For the first time that day, I wasn't the new girl. I was just another student in a classroom, scribbling down notes about old kings and lost cities.
Until my phone buzzed.
I sighed, pulling it out under the desk like a criminal.
Of course it was Eli.
Eli: Hurry up, dummy. I'm waiting in the parking lot. Got practice after I drop you home.
I made a face.
Is he for real? My class isn't even over.
I glanced at the clock — twenty minutes left. Typical Eli.
I texted back a simple: Chill.
Ms. Calloway was explaining how an old dynasty fell apart over a stupid marriage scandal, and for a while, I let myself get distracted in the best way.
I tapped my pen against the desk, zoned out watching the way the sunlight made patterns on the floor, and hummed along quietly to a song stuck in my head from earlier.
When the bell finally rang, I bolted.
Grabbing my bag, I muttered a polite "Thanks, Ms. Calloway" and practically jogged down the hallway.
Eli was leaning against his car in the parking lot, arms crossed, keys spinning around his finger, looking like he'd been waiting for hours instead of twenty minutes. He had that familiar scowl he always wore when things didn't move on his schedule.
"Took you long enough," he called as I walked up.
"I had class, genius," I shot back, rolling my eyes.
He muttered something about being late and basketball practice, already climbing into the driver's seat. I tossed my bag in the back and slumped into the passenger seat without another word.
The radio was blasting — some old rap track Eli was obsessed with — and I did what I always did when Eli was in a mood.
I ignored him completely and sang along to whatever was playing. The beat was good, and even though he was pouting, he didn't turn it down.
I half-smiled, watching the city blur past the window as we sped down the familiar streets toward home. The sky was streaked with soft pink and orange now, the first signs of sunset showing up.
When we pulled into our driveway, I opened the door before the car even came to a full stop.
"Tell Mom I'll be home before ten," Eli called after me.
I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, yeah. Typical Eli."
He sped off down the street, tires screeching a little as he made the turn.
I shook my head and pushed the front door open.
The familiar scent of vanilla candles hit me instantly, wrapping around me like a hug. The house was quiet, except for the soft hum of the TV coming from the living room.
Mom was curled up on the couch, hair pulled into a messy bun, a smoothie in one hand, her favorite crime show playing in the background.
"Hey, Alicia," she greeted, not even taking her eyes off the screen.
"Hey, Mom," I replied lazily, kicking off my shoes by the door and stretching my arms out.
She glanced at me then, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips.
"Made any new friends? How was your first day?"
I groaned dramatically, already halfway up the stairs. "Let me get a shower first, Mom!"
"Where's Eli?" she called after me.
"Had basketball practice — said he'll be back before ten!" I yelled as I closed my bedroom door behind me.
I leaned against it for a second, the day finally catching up to me in one big wave.
The stares, the whispers, the weird tension with Paul Vert, Mina's endless questions, Brielle's little glares, Eli's usual mood swings. It had been a day.
But somehow, it didn't feel as terrible as I'd expected.
I tossed my bag onto my desk, grabbed some clothes, and headed for a long, hot shower.